


To John, With Love

by orphan_account



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 00:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18304715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jonah wasn't good at expressing feelings.Neither was John.But this... this was the exception.





	To John, With Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cactusparade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactusparade/gifts).



> My gift for Noah for our Discord gift swap. <3
> 
> I hope I did your Deputy, Jonah Rook, some justice! He's wonderful :)

“Where are you?”

 

It startles him at first, never really gets used to John's voice coming through without a hint of hatred directed at him anymore, since their mutual feelings were addressed. Jonah looked around at the mess he had made, of both Resistance and peggies lying about, Peaches happily gnawing on the leg of one of them. 

 

Jonah holds the radio up, pushes the denim of his shirt up his elbows in the warm spring air he looks around the valley from the Lincoln lookout. 

 

John's voice, softer than usual, butter to his words, comes over the radio, asking the million dollar question. Maybe Jonah was in love, he wasn't sure. What he did know was that he had a hard time resisting the bright blue eyes that sparked danger and curiosity, thrilled him and terrified him simultaneously. 

 

“About ten miles east from your place.”

 

There's a pause, and Jonah scratches Peaches’ ears before turning his gun over in his hand curiously, balancing both it and the radio between his hands as he perches on the stairs.

 

And then he hears it, and he smiles.

 

“Come home.”

 

Jonah holsters his gun, and heads for the ranch.

 

\---

 

“What… the fuck.”

 

John is, well, to put it simply - he looks like a damn mess. He's covered almost entirely in what's either flour or pancake batter, almost looking like a puppy being punished when Jonah walks into his massive kitchen. To his surprise, there's no fancy blue button up or vest - just a simple black t-shirt, stolen from Jonah, that sits awkwardly around his shoulders and too big around John's skinny waist. It's covered in food too, and John picks at the shoulder when he follows Jonah's gaze.

 

“I… tried to make pancakes.” John smiles, almost apologetically, if it weren't for the mischievous glint in his eye when he sees Jonah's eyes drift to the ruined counters and tiny flame dancing under the still-how pan.

 

“You tried to burn your ranch down instead?” Jonah's hand goes to turn John's oven off, one hand on John's hip, and he sees that his jeans are covered in flour, too. 

 

“Not exactly, just-” John's eyes drift over to the bowl, the ruined batter, the machine accidentally left on “high” and the cord ripped out of the wall. It's easy for Jonah to decipher what happened, just from looking at it.

 

“You set it too high and panicked when it exploded on you, didn't it?” Jonah is  _ laughing  _ and John's sneer says it all;  _ stop fucking laughing at me, sinner _ .

 

John has pancake batter in his beard, his hair, on his face and in his moustache. It's cute, in a way, if it wasn't for the fact that this was the one who skins people for the cult that Jonah was slowly starting to be apart of.

 

But he was also falling in love with this one, and he knew he was a goner as soon as he saw John covered in remnants of food.

 

“I should probably clean up…” John looks disappointed, but his voice reads annoyance and frustration. “I just- I…”

 

Am terrible at voice emotions.

 

“You just wanted to do something nice for me, John?” Jonah kisses him despite the mess and John groans. 

 

“Yeah.” He confesses against the Deputy's mouth.

 

“I got a spare shirt in my pack. I like seeing you in my clothes.” Jonah kisses his neck, smiles at John. It's cute, really, the attempt to cook, even if John cannot do it for shit. “If you wanted more of my stuff, all you had to do was ask instead of wrecking your kitchen.”

 

John rolls his eyes, huffs against Jonah's mouth.

 

“Fucker.” He shoves slightly at Jonah's chest, but there's no malice behind it. Fondness, actually. It makes his heart flutter a little, to see his hair a mess, stray dark strands falling on John's forehead.

 

He laughs, turns to the pancake batter and smiles slightly.

 

“Did you try adding blueberries…?”

 

John sighs in annoyance, before trying, and failing with an annoyed growl, to get the batter out of his thick and soft beard.

 

“Could get you into the shower, too. Hm?”

 

John's head snaps from the food at that, and he smiles. Jonah could never tire of the genuine happiness on John's face, because  _ fuck _ if he doesn't wear it well.

 

He grabs Jonah, and pulls him to the bathroom. 

  
  


Hours later, both cleaned and well sated, John rests his head on Jonah's bear chest, snoring lightly. His breath ruffles the hair on John's head, fluffy and unkempt from just showering and not bothering to style it just yet. 

 

John told him to come  _ home _ , but is that really what he meant? That this was  _ their  _ home? Their space to share? He still had his doubts of everything, his inner conflict, but he knew above all else that he  _ loves  _ John, right?

 

John shifts at his other's distress, glances up, eyes sleepy and bleary as he blinks up at Jonah, tattooed hand rubbing at Jonah's chest and stomach.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Jonah swallows thickly.

 

“What did you mean, when you told me to ‘come home?’”

 

John visibly tenses.

 

“I didn't- I mean, I just thought…”

 

Because neither of them really were good at expressing emotions, were they? 

 

John swallows hard, Jonah's attention catching the Adam's apple bobbing as he does. 

 

“Do you want this to be your home?”

 

Jonah inhales deeply, wraps his arms around John and kisses his forehead, earning a quiet, nervous groan from the other man. 

 

“I think- I think I could get used to living here. Never uh… never lived in such a huge house before.”

 

“You could learn to love it.” John says, hopeful and sweet.

 

God. Fucking John and his sweet, kind words, double meanings and his vulnerability showing when he can actually trust Jonah-

 

John looks up, blue eyes bright and shining, hopeful, mouth open slightly on a deep inhale of anticipation on what his Love will say next. 

 

_ Say Yes, Deputy _ .

 

It's all his eyes could say, and he feels John's hands tighten into claws in preparation of protecting himself from heartbreak.

 

Jonah really can't say no to this whirlwind of a human, this chaotic man whose life is stained in blood and climbed to the top by using the worst in people against them, a spiteful revenge against the world for all that was done to him- 

 

It's no wonder he responds to kindness like a cornered animal.

 

“John. John, yes, Johnny-” Jonah smiles and hugs him tight. This will be  _ their  _ home,  _ their  _ chance with Eden's Gate,  _ their  _ journey into New Eden. 

 

John relaxes into Jonah, kisses him, tears of joy prickling in his eyes, and the radio sparks up, making Jonah huff a slight laugh. 

  
  


_ We'll meet again, some sunny day... _


End file.
